


Underestimated

by Ziel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Creature Inheritance, Dark Harry, Gen, Parody, Powerful Harry, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziel/pseuds/Ziel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone always thinks they can get one over on the old man. [Crack/Parody of Super!Dark!Harry]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underestimated

"Your time has come, old man!"

His voice reverberated through the Great Hall. Heads turned to stare at the boy- no, at the _man_ standing in the doorway.

"Your reign of terror ends here, Dumbledore." Harry said coldly.

He had a veritable armory of magical artifacts around him. Rings and pendants, three separate faerie-made wands, his cloak of invisibility draped around his shoulders. Even the Sword of Gryffindor hung at his waist; once more wielded for a righteous cause. Harry stepped forward, clinking slightly with the weight of his gear.

Dumbledore gave no reaction for a long moment, only staring down at Harry from the teacher's table. Finally, Dumbledore rose wearily to his feet.

"Harry... I'm not sure what has prompted this, but-"

Harry cut him off. "You know what you did, Dumbledore! 'For the Greater Good,' wasn't it? No more. Don't try your befuddled old man act on me any longer."

Professor McGonagall stood then. "Mister Potter, what is the meaning of this?!" She shouted. "You can't possibly-"

The Boy Who Lived raised a glowing sapphire. "Silence, Minerva." He snapped his wrist once, and McGonagall fell senseless, the sapphire glowing even more sinisterly for an instant.

Dumbledore's benign smile vanished. Harry smirked back.

"No more blandishments about my mother's love, Dumbledore? Maybe you can send me to live with the Dursley's again. Oh wait," Harry's smirk grew wider. "I killed them already. My _real_ family aren't a bunch of muggles. They weren't even the Potters."

"Harry, please." Dumbledore said. "It is not too late to change things."

"The only changes we'll have today is your end." Harry shot back. "Harry Potter is dead. Call me... Harry Arcturus Neverborn Extremis Black!"

The other students in the hall began muttering among themselves. A few snickered at Harry's new name.

"Now," Harry said. "Will you fight me, Dumbledore? Or will you lay down and die?"

He pocketed the glowing sapphire and raised a new magical artifact. A demon's sword, heritage of his true father. Forged in the flames of a nonspecific, probably vaguely Judeo-Christian Hell. Baptized in the blood of Harry's Veela mother and tempered with angel's tears. The blade did not glow. No, it was filled with _unlight_. The hall grew darker for its very presence.

Dumbledore sighed. "I see. If it must be this way... Mister Black, then it shall be. However..." Dumbledore paused for a moment, stroking his beard. "May I inquire if that is the particular demon sword that was sealed away in-"

Harry interrupted him again. "Yes! In the ruins of my father's home- the Iron Death Ice Fortress! My birthright, but for your interference!"

"I see." Dumbledore's smile returned.

"What?" Harry snarled. "You dare smirk at High Overlord Black?!"

Dumbledore raised his hands defensively. "Oh no, Mister Black. I was just thinking of the last time I saw that sword."

"When you banished my father and usurped my-"

This time it was Dumbledore who interrupted. "And I suppose that you read the book of spells sealed with it?"

"Yes, but-"

"And you did the accompanying rituals?"

"Yes!" Harry shouted triumphantly. "Even the Dark Rite of Fakshite!"

"Ah." Dumbledore's smile grew a little wider. "Well then, stop me if you've heard this one."

Dumbledore snapped his long fingers once, and then spoke a single word.

" _Hubris_."

At once, Harry's sword snapped in two. The pieces rusted into nothing in a matter of moments. The High Overlord Black found himself suddenly dizzy, barely able to stay standing. His new-found power deserted him in seconds; most of his magical trinkets fading and falling to pieces. Dumbledore simply stood there, still smiling benignly.

"Tell me, Mister _Black_ , did you ever wonder what I was doing all these years as Headmaster?" Dumbledore chuckled. "You think you're the first special boy to come to Hogwarts? Oh no. It must be every decade or so that one of my students gets it into his head that he could do a better job. Tom Riddle was only the latest. Or... second latest, if we count you."

"What?!" Harry gasped. "But what about the Greater Good and all that?"

"The Greater Good?" Dumbledore shook his head pityingly. "I move our society towards the-" Dumbledore made air-quotes, "Greater Good, with every student who passes through our doors. A proper education and good friends are worth more to wizard kind than any magical rituals or silly artifacts."

"And the Sword of Greater Deathbane?" Harry said. The weight of his artifacts grew too much and he fell to his knees. Around him, students were finally backing away, deserting their spots at the long tables like rats deserting a sinking ship.

"Planted." Dumbledore said. "As was the Ritual of True Ascension, the Jewel of Grinding Souls, and most every other mysterious artifact you can think of. I wasn't sitting on my laurels this whole time, oh no." Dumbledore snapped his fingers once more, and one by one, Harry's remaining items crumbled away into dust.

"You really should have listened to Miss Granger some more," Dumbledore chided. "She'd have known that you can't be half-demon, vampire, veela, and whatever other silly races you've filled in the blanks with at the same time."

"Ah bollocks." Harry swore.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes." He drew himself up; the air crackling with untold power, every drop of magical power held back for decades.

Harry quailed under the Headmaster's gaze. "No! Dumbledore, please!"

Harry Deathlord Dark'ness Dementia Black screamed with terror as the sentence was pronounced, each word screaming with death's knell.

"One-hundred points from Gryffindor!"

XXX

**A repost of an old oneshot I banged out as a joke. Not remotely polished or deep, but I'm trying to dig up some of my older stuff to repost just for the sake of preservation.**

**Original Prompt was: "I just want to see Dumbledore look upon Super-Harry, and, with a twinkle in his eyes, say some compassionate old mentor variant of, "What are you, a fucken casual? Git gud, scrub.** "


End file.
